


Everlasting

by Dokihearts, Isbjorn, karasunotsubasa



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Magical Garden, Unicorns, unicorn!victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dokihearts/pseuds/Dokihearts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isbjorn/pseuds/Isbjorn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/pseuds/karasunotsubasa
Summary: When his mother falls ill and only a special flower can save her, Yuuri takes it onto himself to travel to the Garden of Everlasting to find it. What he finds, though, is more than just the flower.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh I'm so excited to be posting this already bc I really adore this au even tho I didn't have much time to work on it ryhchvh I hope you guys enjoy it and if you do, please let me know bc there's a real big shot I might consider doing it for the actual lly big bang? maybe? we'll see? ahaha  
> anywho, enjoy!
> 
> art for this fic was done by [@hentipie](https://hentipie.tumblr.com/) (Dokihearts)
> 
> \- kat  
> [@katzuyas](http://katzuyas.tumblr.com/)  
> (karasunotsubasa)

 

 

"The Garden of Tears, they call it," the old healer says.

She stares into Yuuri's eyes like she's looking straight through them to the very core of his being, his deepest fears and desires laid bare for her eyes, and a shiver runs down Yuuri's spine. He sits still, though, and listens to her every word despite how much he wishes to simply run away.

"They say that when you come close at night you can hear the weeping of the ghosts of widows and orphans left in their suffering to wander among the beauty of the flowers." She lifts her chipped cup and blows onto the little tea leaf that refuses to sink. It trembles across the surface and the mad witch cackles at it before she once again turns her white, unseeing eyes at Yuuri. "They also call it the Garden of Everlasting. Do you know what it means, child?"

Yuuri shakes his head, unable to speak even if he knew what to say. She harrumphs.

"Everything there, the flowers, the soil, the trees and the fruit – even the ones who live there, oh yes, even them – they don't die, see? They don't wilt. Never wane." She nods to herself and smiles, a bitter, nasty quirk of her wrinkly mouth. "That's why it's your only chance. You'll find your flower there."

Yuuri swallows the fear of the things that don't die, and asks: "How do I know which one to take? Is there a, a colour, maybe? Or, or a pattern to the petals? Anything?"

The old healer gives him a glance of her white eyes. Her loud "Hm!" makes Yuuri twitch despite himself. He's never been good with her. She terrified him since he was but a wee baby, yet for his sick mother he'll face much worse than the town's witch. Like a Garden filled with the undead.

The witch's crooked front teeth gleam as she grins.

"You'll know when you see it," she says. "It's the most grand of the flowers, golden in its hue, and you can only find it if you truly wish to seek it."

She tells him no more, no matter how Yuuri begs. With the little he knows, he packs a hunting bag, squeezes his father's arm in goodbye, and with one last forlorn look at the room where his sister sits by their ill mother day and night, he leaves for the forest – and the Garden that is their only hope for salvation.

He finds it fairly easily, which comes as a surprise. One moment he's walking through the trees, pushing away bloodthirsty twigs that cut him on the face every chance they get, and the next he's standing at the edge of a meadow filled with sweet-smelling flowers. It spreads as far as the eye goes and Yuuri takes it all in: awed, fascinated, charmed. From where he's standing he can see a small waterfall and hear the hum of flowing water. The Garden looks like nothing he imagined when he heard the old witch speak of it and he smiles a little to himself while a tension he didn't even notice being there leaves his body.

He walks along the pathways that the flowerbeds make, so neat, so tidy, so perfect that it's impossible to believe that nature alone was responsible for all of this. Different colours catch his attention and he cranes his neck in search of what he came here to find – a gold flower to heal his mother. He spots beautiful pinks, shyly opening up to him as he walks by. He sees roses, sweet and adoring on their bushes. He notes blue and purple of the fat and heavy hydrangeas further away, and next to them little daisies with their pure white petals and yellow bellies. Lilac trees grow all over the place, protecting smaller clusters of flowers with their shade.

It's all beautiful, all pretty, but among all the yellows there is no gold. The further Yuuri makes it into the Garden, the more his hopes titter along the edge of disappointment. The hum of the waterfall is like a buzz on his consciousness, a reminder that he wasn't here for pleasure. Was the witch wrong? Did the flower even grow here? Was this whole trip for nothing?

He takes a turn when the pathway leads him right and stops at the sight of the big pond that sits among the flowers like a crown jewel would among cheap jewellery. It's connected to the waterfall, which streams the water into it, shrouded in white mist. The surface glimmers in the sun like a thousand precious stones was dropped into the pond, but that isn't what catches Yuuri's breath in his throat, no.

There, on the water surface among the lilies and the loti, Yuuri sees the gold he's been looking for. Only a few flowers of this kind float gently in the pond, but Yuuri doesn't need much – he wants only one, just enough to make the cure for his ill mother.

Without thinking much else, he kneels at the edge of the water and reaches as far as his arm allows to pick a golden flower. He's too far, though, and his fingers only brush the soft, delicate petals. The flower dances away from his hand and Yuuri huffs a little breath. On his knees, he inches closer to the edge of the pond and tries again, but before he can pluck the flower, a voice startles him from the side.

"Why are you trying to steal my flowers?"

Yuuri yelps and jolts in surprise. He shouldn't have been so close to the water, he thinks just as his knee slips on the wet grass and he falls into the pond face first. It's a shallow swim and it only takes him a second to lift up on his hands, spluttering pond water. His hair is wet and in his eyes, and he pushes it back with a hand before he looks to where the voice came from.

The first thing of the stranger he sees is skin – pale like the moonlight, almost glowing. A curtain of long silver hair is draped over one shoulder and the one ear that Yuuri can see is slanted at the tip, but what startles him most is the slender, pure white horn climbing in a whirl from the crown of the man's forehead.

 

 

 

 

Yuuri's mouth drops open and it stays open when the man speaks again.

"Are you quite alright?"

Yuuri only stares.

His shoes have soaked through, just as his pants had. The front of his tunic is clinging uncomfortably to his stomach where it got wet. His hair still drips with pond water and one tear of it rolls down his cheek like sweat. Or maybe it is sweat, because Yuuri feels hot and overwhelmed and struck all at once.

A little cooling breeze ruffles through the trees and brushes over Yuuri's soaked clothes in a way that makes him shiver out of his stupor.

_Even the ones who live there, oh yes, even them_ , the witch has said.

Yuuri swallows, unable to blink or turn his gaze away from the man before him, even if he can feel his cheeks colour at the amount of skin he's able to glimpse. The blue eyes, blue like the sky above them, look back at him calmly. They seem more curious than upset, so Yuuri puts everything out in the open to maybe turn the scales in his favour.

He swallows hard and says: "I'm so sorry! I wasn't trying to steal anything, I swear! I didn't know the flowers belonged to someone."

The man cocks his head to the side. "They do."

"My mother is sick," Yuuri explains. "The flowers, the gold ones, they can help. I– I'll do whatever you want just... please, for my mother. I'll–"

It's difficult to speak when tears well up in his eyes and desperation clogs his throat, but it doesn't seem to be necessary to word anything else. When Yuuri sucks in a shuddering breath, the water ripples and the stranger moves. He picks one gold flower, two, three, and lifts a hand up to his hair where he pulls out a single string to tie it around them. He comes to stand before Yuuri and offers him the flowers: beautiful, delicate, and kept together by a glowing silvery thread.

"Here," the stranger says. "I hope your mother gets better."

"You... you're just going to give them to me?" Yuuri asks. He takes the flowers, unable to believe it was this easy. "Without taking anything from me in return?"

"What can you give me?" the man asks, and Yuuri flinches.

What can _someone like you_ give me, he hears.

He swallows the worry, the fear, the bile rising in his throat, and ploughs on:

"What is it that you want most?"

For a while the stranger is deep in thought. His eyebrows draw together, as pale as clouds bathed in moonlight. His cheekbones are high, sculpted, elegant. The finger that's tracing pretty, plush lips absently is a distraction that Yuuri welcomes, but when it stops and blue eyes catch him off guard, Yuuri feels his breath falter once again.

"Love," the man says out of nowhere.

Yuuri's cheeks burn before he can fully comprehend the request. Once he does, though, he shakes his head. His hand clenches on the flowers, trembling and desperate, but as much as he wants them, he can't give something like that to a complete stranger.

"I can't do that," Yuuri admits, even if it pains him. He lowers his head, defeated, but an idea strikes him just as he begins to think this was all for naught. He lifts his head, mind made up. "But, I can be your friend. If you're willing to have someone like me."

Blue eyes widen and once they do, the sun puts a sparkle in them that lights up the stranger's entire face. His mouth parts open, and he breathes: "...Victor."

"What?"

"If you're willing to have someone like me, _Victor_ ," the man repeats as if he's waiting for something.

And oh, Yuuri realizes with a blink, he knows what he's waiting for.

"I'd love to be your friend, Victor," Yuuri says.

Victor closes his eyes and it's no hallucination when Yuuri sees him shiver. The water ripples, glittering and glistening, and leaving sun spots on pale, naked skin. It feels like something has just eased off the man's shoulders – _Victor's_ shoulders – and Yuuri waits until the bowed silver head lifts up again. It does, soon, and blue eyes gaze into his with much more warmth than proper.

"I'm Yuuri," Yuuri's lips move of their own will, but it's alright, because Victor's face glows with delight.

" _Yuuri_ ," he repeats, and on his tongue Yuuri's name sounds like a name of a flower: something pretty, sweet, joyful... something that Yuuri doesn't feel he deserves.

"If you'll have me," he repeats then, hoping Victor will see that he isn't any of those things.

But Victor gives him a smile, beautiful and heart-shaped, and says:

"I'd have no one else."  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please remember to give henti a shoutout for the wonderful art!!  
> hope you enjoyed it and stick around for some more~
> 
> comments are always appreciated ;3c


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (My team has been very patient at how long it took me to get this perfect! I hope everyone enjoys! -Izzy)

It’s early in the morning when Yuuri realizes exactly what he has forgotten. He wakes up with a jerk, scrambling out of bed and shoving his boots on as quickly as he can. The temptation to smack himself in the face as he finger combs his hair and throws on a loose t-shirt is overwhelming and something dark and guilty pangs in his chest.  _ Viktor has been waiting for you _ . The sentence is a panicked scream in the background of Yuuri’s thoughts.  _ You’ve broken a promise. _ Guilt climbs up Yuuri’s throat, it shivers through his limbs, it chases him out the door and down the long road leading to the forest Yuuri had barely even dreamt of for the past three months. Towards the man that had saved his mother.

The branches and vines that had snagged at his clothing the first time he came to this garden seem even crueler now. They leave red lines along the palms of Yuuri’s hands and across his cheekbone, they bury themselves in the thick of his soles. By the time he reaches the sweet smell of flowers and the sound of rushing water he is out of breath, leaves tangled in his hair and thorns poking out of his boots. His chest heaves as he desperately searches the field around him with worried eyes. His feet lead him to the pond he first saw Viktor at, the pond with glimmering golden flowers and shivering rainbows in the air. Viktor is nowhere to be seen.

“Viktor?” Yuuri calls out anxiously. Seconds pass and Yuuri hears nothing, he sees nothing, the rippling water seems to mock him in it’s tranquility. Yuuri falls to his knees and covers his face in his hands his heart clenching painfully as he feels his heart race in his chest. He can’t breathe, let alone think, his mind a blur of guilt and shame. Tears begin to well up in his eyes when he hears the sound of something rustling in the bushes to his right.

“Yuuri?” Yuuri looks up at the surprised call of his name. Standing to the side is Viktor, flowers tangled in the long spill of his hair, crown glimmering in the sunlight that filters through the trees. He seems even more beautiful than the first time Yuuri had seen him and completely caught off guard at the sight of him.

“Viktor! I’m so sorry!” Yuuri blurts out, the tears that had been at the edges of his vision spread and flow down his cheeks like the waterfall behind him. “I’m so sorry I forgot our promise!” The unicorn blinks and then moves to sit gracefully beside him.

“It’s alright, Yuuri,” Viktor smiles. He reaches out and gently wipes away Yuuri’s tears. “You needn’t cry, it hasn’t been very long since you left. It can’t have been more than a week.”

“What?” Yuuri blinks back, cheeks darkening under Viktor’s thumb. “Viktor, it’s been  _ three months _ !” Yuuri cries in distress.

Viktor simply shrugs with a short, carefree laugh. “A month means nothing to me. I’ve been alive for thousands of years.” He laughs again at the dumbfounded look that crosses Yuuri’s face. “I’m just glad you came back at all.”

There is something sad and listless that resonates within Yuuri’s heart and urges him to comfort Viktor. He takes the man’s pale cheeks delicately and looks at Viktor intently. “I’m never going to forget again. I swear to you I will be a better friend.” Viktor’s eyes widen and sparkle and Yuuri has the strange idea to kiss the beautiful man in front of him. He swallows the urge and frowns. “You’ll never be alone again.”

“Promise?” Viktor whispers.

“I promise,” Yuuri agrees.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this thing that I totally forgot to post before so since I'm not doing any productive writing these days, here's something yall might enjoy ^u^)b
> 
> \- kat  
> [@katzuyas](http://katzuyas.tumblr.com/)

 

The first time Yuuri asks about the horn on Victor's forehead it draws a blush out onto Victor's pale cheeks. It's rosy and sweet, and Yuuri is starstruck by it far more than he's curious about the horn.

"Can I touch it?" he asks, though.

Blue eyes widen at him and then they melt into something mellow. The blush on Victor's cheeks deepens when he tips his head down in voiceless consent. He offers up his horn and Yuuri lifts his hand to tentatively brush his fingers on the slender length that spirals up from Victor's forehead a good few inches towards the sky.

It's soft, delightfully so, and covered in what seems to be a tender fuzz of tiny hair akin to the ones found on peaches. Yuuri strokes his hand over it gently. He's reverent as should be, and so fascinated that it takes him a while to notice the way Victor shivers while his eyes grow more and more dazed. Victor's mouth parts on little breaths that fan over Yuuri's wrist, but it all stops when Yuuri pokes the tip of the horn with his finger and Victor gasps – and then he's gone.

Instead, Yuuri is left standing before what looks to be a white horse with silver mane, beautiful blue eyes and hooves that look like ivory in the dewy grass.

"Wow," Yuuri whispers.

The horse... No, Yuuri realizes, not a horse. A unicorn – _Victor_ – nickers softly at him and nudges his head into Yuuri's hand. Yuuri chuckles before he can help it and obediently runs his hands over the bridge of Victor's nose, down his big cheeks. The fur feels like Yuuri imagines cashmere to feel: light, delicate, smooth.

It's beautiful. _Victor is beautiful_. 

"Can you turn back at will?" Yuuri asks, but the only thing he gets is a short neigh, which he takes to mean no? Maybe? "So what do we do now?"

Victor lifts his head and breathes in Yuuri's face. Yuuri scrunches his eyes shut, but it feels warm and smells like flowers, which has him crack one eye open uncertainly. Victor's lips munch on the tip of Yuuri's nose. It tickles and Yuuri succumbs to a fit of giggles before he blows air into Victor's muzzle right in return. Victor rears his head back with a neigh that sounds like laughter and Yuuri laughs at that even more, hugging Victor's head close to his chest.

The silver mane catches his eye with the way it shines in the sun, so he runs his hand through it. His fingers easily part the long tresses of hair and for a second he wonders if...

"Hey, can I braid your mane?" Yuuri asks Victor, whose nostrils flare at that in excitement. Yuuri chuckles at the eager reaction. "How about you lie down for me then?"

In reply Victor butts his head against Yuuri's shoulder right before he drops down to the grass. Gracefully, of course. His front legs are bent under him in a picture of poise, but it all disappears when Yuuri sits next to him and Victor cranes his long neck to put his head in Yuuri's lap. Victor sprawls on the grass in a heap of long, unicorn limbs and Yuuri can't help his grin. He pats Victor's neck a few times and gets a little sigh in return.

The braiding takes a while as Yuuri goes through the trouble of picking a few of the nearby carnations to weave into the thick strands of Victor's mane. It looks incredibly pretty, though, and he's happy with his handiwork. At some point, while his fingers work, Yuuri begins to hum a lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was a child. Victor's ear twitches from time to time, attentive, which has Yuuri smile and sing more.

He's almost done with the braids when he feels a little shift in the warmth of the body pressed against him. The air seems to thicken around them, the scent of flowers gets even sweeter, and when it becomes so hard to breathe from the invisible pressure on his lungs that Yuuri's eyes bulge out... it all disappears as suddenly as it came.

Yuuri's heart takes a while to calm down. Once it does, though, he notices that the heavy weight of the unicorn's head is gone from his lap. The braids are gone as well, replaced by a single one connected to the human head of a human Victor who sits right before Yuuri. He's looking over his shoulder and his blue eyes shine with concern.

"Sorry," he says. "Was that too intense?"

Yuuri shakes his head, offering him a small smile. "No, it's fine. I was just a little startled. Next time I won't be."

It seems like the right thing to say, because Victor's face splits into a lovely grin that has Yuuri instantly feeling better. He smiles wider. And then pulls on the braid lightly.

"Turn back, I'm not done yet," he tells Victor, who does as asked with a happy hum. Yuuri fiddles with the last strands of Victor's hair – which feels far softer, far silkier now – and when he finally wraps the last carnation at the end of the thick braid, he says: "There, it's done."

Gently, so as not to destroy any of the delicate flowers, Victor pulls his hair over the shoulder. His little gasp sounds charming even before Yuuri hears his voice.

"It's so pretty! And so cute!" Victor glances up at him, happy and flushed, and Yuuri feels his own face mirror that perfectly. "Thank you, Yuuri."

"My pleasure," he replies. And it was, it truly was. "Thank you for letting me touch your horn."

Victor's blush deepens and he hides his face behind his braid.

"You don't have to say it like that," he mumbles.

"Like what?" Yuuri asks, confused, but when Victor peeks at him shyly from above the hair, Yuuri feels like he knows the answer. He gives a muffled screech from the very back of his throat and covers his face with his hands. "Why didn't you tell me it was something..." He swallows, " ...something _intimate_?"

"Oh..." Victor breathes, sounding so disappointed that Yuuri looks through his fingers at him. "You... you didn't know?"

"Of course not! I would never ask to do it if I knew," Yuuri quickly explains. "I'm so sorry, Victor. Truly."

Victor licks his lips nervously, gaze lowered onto his lap. He seems to be weighing something in his head, because once he comes to a decision he lifts his eyes and stares at Yuuri with steel determination.

"It's fine. I– I don't mind if it's you."

Yuuri's whole world burns with the strength of his blush and his first instinct is to run, but he forces himself to say. He doesn't shy away from it, not this time. Instead, he faces the embarrassment, his feelings and Victor's words head on, and replies in a whisper as soft as the rustle of the wind:

"I don't mind if it's you, either."

The happy sparkle in Victor's eye is more than worth it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this au might never be continued again but make no mistake, victor's horn is forever on my mind ;3c


End file.
